There is a Still Life in the Old Dog Yet

An old one I dug up

If artists are short of subject

they might paint still life.

If I were to write such a thing

I’d have plenty of oranges.

Some sweet, some sour but

all illuminated by the light of

Mediterranean sunrise inside

a powder-blue Wedgwood bowl

and plump non-standard apples

brushed with strokes of green

and cerise over yellow gold.

Grapes of wrath have no place.  

Juicy bunches of Pino-Noir and

Tempranillo poured over apples

and oranges, dripping onto the

surface of an old Oak table to add

solid friendship and good taste.

A banana or two for an exotic feel,

but no Mangoes or Papayas,

they’re a little too rich for this display

and certainly no game corpses leaking

blood and shedding feathers or fur

making a cruel mockery of life.